


Way Out Here

by wyrdlylofn



Category: Justified
Genre: Abuse, F/M, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29344884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyrdlylofn/pseuds/wyrdlylofn
Summary: A local returns as a US Marshal and tries to build a new life for herself. Brandi Calhoun moves back in to her childhood home and works hard to do well at her job, fixing up her home and her life. However, the past doesn't like to stay buried and puts her plans of rebuilding at risk.
Relationships: Tim Gutterson/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	1. Chicken Run

In the deep dark hills of eastern Kentucky, that's the place where I trace my blood line. And it's there I read on a hillside grave stone: You'll never leave Harlan alive.

"Where the sun comes up, about ten in the morning.." she sang along with the song falling out of her truck's stereo. It was fitting, she thought she'd blown that dump years ago but now she was back. She was torn. As much as she hated that town, she was relieved to be back.

The last time she saw this place she was seventeen. She felt so old. It was so different from where she had been but somehow it was still so familiar. Brandi drove down the long gravel road through the trees, around the bends, until she came upon a clearing. An old house sat near the middle and the gravel road went past it. if it was followed, one would end up at an abandoned stable and then a barn, before the road looped back around to form a small circle.

She stopped her truck and opened her door. She stood but didn't hop off the truck. Brandi looked around. The house was still standing. That goddamn house was still standing. Ivy was crawling up it and the bushes seemed to take over it. Other than that, it just needed new paint and a good wash it seemed. She turned her gaze to the abandoned stables. The door was hanging off it and there was a small hole in the roof, but it was still better off than the barn. The barn's paint had faded. It used to be bright red and was now a reddish brown and half the roof had completely caved in. She would have to fix that, she supposed.

Brandi grabbed her old suitcase from her car and threw her duffle bag over her shoulder and headed up the front porch steps. After ten years, the house seemed alright. She tested each board and found a few that needed to be replace. Some were warped and some had fallen in. She stuck the keys into the front door and pushed it open. It creaked and she made a mental note to fix that as well.

The screen door slammed shut behind her and she stood in the hall. The stairs that lead upstairs were dull and dusty. Wall paper lining the stairwell and halls were peeling and stained. In some rooms, old furniture was covered in white clothes and some windows that were missing glass were boarded up. Brandi climbed up the steps to her old room. It was completely empty. There was no furniture, no bed, no dresser, no nothing. Just the creaky wooden floor and an empty closet. Brandi smiled softly to herself and set her bags down on the dull floor. She shook her head.

"Thanks, mom."

"Tim, can I see you in my office for a second?" Art called from his door. Tim looked over at Raylan and Rachel before standing and heading into Art's office. "Have a seat." Tim did as he was told. Art sat at his own desk and leaned back. "How long you been here in this office?" He asked. Tim took a minute confused to think.

"About ten months. Why?" Tim asked. Art looked at him for a second.

"You feel confidant enough to take a rookie under your wing?" Art asked. Tim looked at Art, face neutral but polite. "She's fresh out of training and I want someone to show her the ropes and keep her out of trouble."

"You mean she needs a babysitter?" Tim asked, leaning back in the seat with a small sigh. "And Raylan and Rachel can't because…?"

"Because I need Rachel to babysit Raylan." Art explained with his knowing little smile. Tim snorted a bit in acknowledgement and shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I'll show her around." Tim said. "She comin' in today?" He asked and stood. Art stood as well and looked at his watch. "She should be here in an hour or so. I'm gonna put her in the spare desk next to you. The one near my office."

"Sounds good." Tim said, sounding unimpressed. "You owe me one, though." He said as he stepped out the door.

"She shouldn't be too much trouble." Art said. Tim lifted his eyebrows quickly before dropping them. It was a whatever you say expression.

You wouldn't think she'd be so nervous. Then again, the last time she was here she was seventeen and she wasn't in the good graces of the man in charge. That tends to happen when you go cow tipping on his property and let loose a very pissed off bull. Luckily for her, that man has long since retired and now Art Mullen is in charge.

Brandi Calhoun inhaled and exhaled before opening the door to her truck and stepping out into the sunlight. Watching her step out of the truck is almost comical. Brandi is a short young woman but she had plenty of muscle and curves. She was toned and her posture made her seem taller, but she was only five one. She pulled her crazy curly brown hair into a tight ponytail and kept her papers in her hands. They were her assignment papers, her resume, her medical papers, too. Even her psych evals were in there. They liked to be thorough, it made it easier for everyone.

Brandi made her way inside, went through security and made her way upstairs. She hopped off the elevator and walked into the open office area, letting muscle memory kick in and lead her to where she needed to be. She had a vague sense of where she was going, but things could change over the years.

As she took a few more steps inside, she looked around at the people. Specifically she was looking for someone to give her directions. The woman to her right was at her desk, writing something down. She was a black woman with a soft face and firm eyes. Brandi stood infront of her desk and leaned in slightly.

"Excuse me." She said, catching the woman's attention. "I'm looking for Art Mullen's office. Can you tell me where that is?" The woman smiled and pointed.

"It's right there. Is he expecting you?" She asked.

"Yes, ma'am." Brandi said, face relaxed. The woman in front of her smiled.

"You can just go in." She said kindly. Brandi offered her a friendly smile and a thank you. She straightened up and started walking. She walked passed a bored looking cowboy and then past a blonde man staring intently at his screen. Once she came into his line of sight, is cold blue eyes went straight to her like a magnet. He looked at her and met her dark, hard brown eyes. She kept her face blank and stared right back at him as she walked. His hand held his chin and one finger was curled in front of his mouth but she could tell he wasn't smiling. His face was as blank as hers. She stopped in front of his desk.

"Can I help you?" She asked. He let his hand fall to his desk.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He said.

"Your coworker has already helped me." Brandi said firmly.

"Then why are you still standing here?" Tim asked.

"Why are you staring me down like I'm about to pull a gun?" She countered, not enjoying the scrutiny.

"Brandi." Art called from his office with a small smile on his face. The woman who helped her and the bored cowboy were now looking her way, curious as to what was going on. They had been eaves dropping on the brief conversation, but still tried to be polite. When their boss spoke up, they stopped trying to be polite. Art leaned against his door. "I thought you'd be here a bit later." Brandi turned away from Tim and looked at Art.

"I have a lead foot." She said absolutely deadpan. Art looked at her with a blank face before both had grins etched across their faces. Art was laughing quietly to himself and Brandi was grinning nervously, trying to ignore the holes being burned into her head by a certain blonde gentleman.

"Come on in, Brandi." Art said. Brandi followed him in and sat when she was told to. She handed over her papers and sat back as Art read them over. "Well, you even included your psych evals. How considerate." Art said. Brandi looked at him, her face blank once more. "I remember the last time you were sitting in this office you were shaking in your boots." Art said.

"I do to." Brandi said. "Never thought I'd be here for a job." She added with a small smile. Art chuckled to himself.

"Your momma would be turning in her grave if she knew." Art said.

"I hope she is." Brandi told him. Art looked at her, humor gone from his expression.

"Why are you here, Brandi?" Art asked. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but you could be assigned to any state you want, and you chose here? Why?" He asked. Brandi looked at the man she had seen as a father for the last few years she lived in Kentucky. He looked so confused and lost. Brandi exhaled and thought very carefully on her next choice of words. After a brief pause she figured out what she wanted to say.

"I needed to come home." She said. "It was time to come home." Art stared her down and she held his gaze.

"But why?" He asked. "You ain't got no more family, you don't have anyone here. Last time I saw you, you'd chew off your own leg just to get out of here. You're not telling me something, Brandi. Why aren't you talkin' to me?" He asked. The pleading tone of his voice made her want to break down and tell him everything. She wanted to tell someone, tell the truth, bare her soul.

"I just needed to come back to Lexington." She said. Art looked at her. She wasn't answering the question. Art opened his mouth to ask a question, but Brandi stopped him. "Art, I'm not in trouble. I swear." She said earnestly and paused. Art looked at her, urging her to go on. She thought for a minute and chose her next few words carefully."I just need to be somewhere familiar for a while. Virginia wasn't really working out." Art sighed.

"I'm not gonna get any more from you am I?" Art asked.

"There is nothing more to tell." She answered quickly, automatically. She used the same tone of voice she used when she was little, insisting the bruises on her face were from a horse, not her mother. Art smiled and stood. He walked past her and she stood, intending to follow but he stopped at his door and leaned out.

"Tim, can you come in here again for a minute?" Art said. Brandi sighed when she saw the blond guy who kept staring at her step in. He nodded at her with a smirk and Art closed the door and walked back to his desk. "Brandi Calhoun, this is Tim Gutterson. Tim, this is Brandi, the woman I spoke to you about earlier." The two looked at each other, almost uneasily.

"We've met." Brandi told Art, not pulling her eyes away from the man infront of her. "You military?"

"Army Ranger." Tim said. "I was a sniper." He added. Brandi blinked and heard the sound of breaking glass. She could still feel the glass sticking out of her arm. She hummed, letting him know she had heard him.

"He still is. He's our sniper now, though." Art said and sat down. "Brandi, Tim is gonna show you the ropes for a while and go with you on all outings. You need something, you talk to him. Tim, be sure to show her the ropes, and make sure she plays by the book, please. I don't need another Raylan." Art told them. The two nodded and Art dismissed them. Tim held the door open for her like the gentleman he is and showed her to her desk.

"Ok, here's your desk. Mine's right there." He said pointing to his own desk. "That sulking cowboy fella is Raylan." He said and lowered his voice, facing her again. "I'd stay away from him unless you wanna be sitting in Art's office a lot." After that he spoke in his normal voice. "Rachel is next to him, I think she's the one who helped you out earlier. Ok, if you just have a seat, we'll get your computer all set up and I'll show you what you need to know." He said.

Brandi pulled out her chair and sat down. She draped her tan coat over the back and her forest green polo shirt had sleeves that stopped just below her shoulders. Tim rested his hand on the back of her chair and leaned towards her computer, his other hand resting on her desk. Immediately, she felt trapped and her breath damn near caught in her throat. He was too close and she was trapped against a wall.

"Tim." She said quietly but firmly. He looked at her with a hum of acknowledgement and saw she was staring at the screen like it was gonna set on fire. "You need to back off." She said firmly. Tim looked at her posture and tense muscles and understood. He'd seen that look on a lot of faces. He nodded and stood up straight, removing his hands and stepping back.

"Sorry." He apologized casually and grabbed his own chair, wheeling over next to her. She didn't feel so closed in now and her shoulders started to relax. "Alright, first things first, you need your log in." Tim gave her all her needed passwords and she wrote them down on a memo pad. He showed her all the databases they used and showed her how to look people up and other information. He had her do it a few times on her own to make sure she had a good understanding of what was going on.

Tim found she learned quickly and got a handle on the databases and protocols and procedures. He even covered the procedures for the work they do out side of the office. She had a good understanding of everything and Tim felt comfortable with her abilities but wondered how she would do out in the field. Art would probably giver her a few days to settle in before she's sent out, though.

Before long Tim was back at his desk doing whatever paperwork he needed to get done. He had a file open and decided to have her do some general paper pushing work so she can get in the swing of things. It definatly had nothing to do with giving him less work to do. The two sat in silence, typing away. Rachel had made her way over and introduced herself to Brandi. The two spoke briefly and pleasantly. Brandi liked Rachel.

Art sent Raylan and Rachel out before she could meet him. Eventually, Tim got bored and started playing solitaire. Brandi just kept at it. Around four o'clock, Art and Tim got called away to clean up after Raylan. Brandi stayed behind so she didn't get tangled in the mess. Instead, she volunteered to go grab everyone some dinner since she figured it was gonna be a late night. No one argued.

She didn't get much, just some burgers and sodas and two of those family sized bags of chips. She was sitting at her desk, taking the phone calls for her coworkers and taking messages. It was a slow evening for her and she didn't mind it. She had set the food in the conference room and the office was fairly empty. After she ran out of paper work, she made coffee and ended up playing solitaire until her coworkers returned, wanting to check a few things before leaving. When her coworkers did return, everyone seemed rather irritated with Raylan and she just didn't question it.

She pointed out the food and they went and helped themselves, grateful for one less thing to worry about.

"Hey, Tim." She said to him as he dug in to his burger. He hummed in acknowledgement, not looking away from his screen. "I finished up that work you needed. Can you check and make sure I entered it in the system right?" He straightened up and switched from the paperwork he was currently doing, courtesy of Raylan, to the database she had been working in. She watched as his eyes scanned the screen for a few minutes. He scrolled down and leaned back.

"Everything looks great." He told her after swallowing his food. "You catch on pretty quick, hu?"

After her first day, Brandi returned home after the sun had gone down and she could hear the cicadas in the trees. When she jumped out of her truck, she was truck by how quiet it was. Brandi almost missed the hum of Virginia. Here, back home, she felt isolated, almost lost. But this was where she grew up, and no matter how hard she tried, she would never forget her way around.

Once in the door, she turned on the front porch light. She was grateful that whoever was in charge of the house while she was gone at least kept the plumbing and electricity going. It was probably the only thing she didn't have to worry about.

She tugged her sleeping bag out of her truck and brought it inside. She unrolled it in her own room and started going through her things. The first thing she pulled out was a picture frame that could fold up and hold three separate pictures. In one of the end panels, a picture captured a moment she shared with her childhood friend. The woman's name was Maura. They were young in the picture and sitting on Maura's car. Maura was in shorts while Brandi was in ripped jeans and a tank top. Maura had a bikin top on. They had driven down to a lake and snuck some booze out of Brandi's mom's liquor cabinet. Brandi smiled when she remembered Maura pushing her off the dock and into the water.

The picture on the other end showed her with a small group of people. They were her friends from when she first moved to Virginia. They all had funny poses and one of them had picked her up and put her on his shoulders. Someone else had a blonde woman sitting on his shoulders too. One man was sitting on the ground and another put his foot on the man's shoulder, imitating Captain Morgan. Brandi just kept smiling to herself. She had almost forgotten about them, it had been a few years since she had heard from them. She smiled sadly and ran a finger over the picture, regretting letting them go.

The picture in the middle almost always made her feel like tearing up. The middle picture was the only picture she had left of her brother, Leo. The picture was of Leo leaning against his old ford. He had blonde hair and bright blue eyes and his smile could light up the world. His face was covered in soot and he was wearing his mining uniform. She missed him dearly.

Brandi sighed and set the photos down before pulling out her electronics and chargers. She plugged them into the wall but set her alarm on her phone. It wouldn't be good to be late on your second day. She rummaged around for her toiletries and moved into the bathroom. She tested the taps and smiled as water rushed through the creaky old pipes. She let the water run for a bit, hoping to clear it out a bit before turning the water to warm.

She stepped into the warm shower and let the hot water fall over her, fighting off the tension in her neck and shoulders. She focused on breathing, breathing in the steam. The house was silent and it was almost unnerving. Brandi couldn't remember the last time she lived alone without noisy neighbors or someone yelling and shouting. She breathed in and out slowly, calming herself down. Being alone like this was such a foreign feeling to her now. Of course she had felt like this when she first moved, but it quickly passed as she made friends. This too shall pass. She thought to herself with a small grin.

After her shower she slipped into her sweatpants and a grey shirt and slid into the sleeping bag. She stuffed a hoodie with spare towels and clothes, using it as a makeshift pillow. She would have to get a pillow tomorrow after work. Brandi looked around the room, illuminated by the moon. She would have to get all new furniture. What better way to celebrate her new freedom?

"Christ Almighty, Brandi." Art said as he walked into the office at seven. Brandi looked at him innocently. "How long you been here?" He asked as he walked over to her desk.

"Since five thirty." She answered flatly, lifting her coffee to finish it off.

"Good lord." He said. "The only reason I'm here is so I can get some work done before Raylan makes another mess. Why the hell are you here so early?" Art asked. Brandi shrugged.

"Just enjoying the quiet for now. Answering phones, too. You got two more. I wrote them down and left them on your desk." She told him. Art sighed and looked at her.

"Morning, Art." Tim said as he walked in. "Morning, Brandi." Art nodded and headed into his office. Tim saw the now empty cup of coffee on her desk and frowned. "Jesus, how long you been here?" He asked.

"Five thirty." Brandi answered flatly, again.

"And people tell me I'm an early riser." Tim said as he set his things down. "You make coffee?" He asked. She nodded and stood.

"I'm gonna go get more myself. Want me to get yours?" She asked. Tim shook his head. "Promise I won't poison it." She offered, wanting to be civil. She distant from the group. She was the outsider. Brandi figured being a bit more friendly could help.

"Nah, I'll get some in a minute." He said. Brandi shrugged and walked away. Brandi returned just in time to see Art about to leave again.

"Brandi, you eat yet?" He asked and she shook her head.

"No, everything was closed." She explained.

"Alright, I'm going to get us some food. " Art said. "You want anything?" He asked.

"Sure, you know what I like." Brandi said. Art nodded and left and Brandi sat at her desk. "So, what do we have got going on today? Anything scheduled?" She asked as she leaned back in her chair. IT still hadn't given her access to everything yet. The important stuff always takes the longest to set up. Tim looked at his computer as he answered. He looked at his computer so intently all the time, Brandi wondered if that was how he naturally looked.

"You and I got a prisoner transport today at ten." Tim answered. "Art wants to start you off easy." Brandi nodded and sipped her coffee.

"Who is it?" She asked curiously.

"I'm pulling up his picture now." Tim said. Brandi rolled her chair over to his desk and looked.

"Ain't he a big fella." Brandi said. Tim snorted. "What he do?"

"Well, he started out as a car thief as far as we know, but once he got into prison, he's been killing inmates left and right. We're moving him to a max security prison about two hours away." Tim explained with a sigh.

"Art's fine with just the two of us?" Brandi asked, surprised, raising her eyebrows.

"You think we should have another person?" Tim asked. Brandi shook her head.

"Nah, just didn't think Art would want a rookie dealing with this guy on their first day." Brandi answered. She wasn't scared, she knew what she could handle, but Art didn't.

"Well," Tim said quietly. "technically this is your second day." Brandi rolled her eyes and went back to her own desk. She looked at her coworker and got a really good look at him. His blond hair stuck up in the front and looked to be combed back almost. His blue eyes stared at the computer screen and he had his hand in front of his mouth just like yesterday. He had on a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up and khakis. It was a casual outfit and Brandi found herself relieved at her outfit choice. She had jeans on and a white button up shirt. Brandi also had her sleeves rolled up. Rachel's suit had thrown her off and Brandi considered going out and buying one just in case.

People started coming in around eight or so. Raylan, the cowboy, came in last.

"Speak of the devil." Art announced fondly as Art and the lawyer greeted Raylan warmly. She watched from her desk, silently observing the relaxed interactions and how casually they regarded the two guards and the inmate. Brandi was on edge with the prisoner but when was she not on edge? This guy was loud and arrogant, slamming things and kicking up a fuss, but it almost seemed forced. He was up to something, but Brandi shook off the paranoia and just focused on the paperwork. She was overthinking it.

The two guards were standing at the door and there was no way he could get out of that room, but every so often, she would stare at the guards and the door. Apparently, he was there to fight being sent to a max security prison. Every time he hit something, she had to fight back a flinch. She tried to just focus on anything else, but it was getting more and more difficult.

Brandi watched as Raylan and Art stood with a lawyer talking about how Raylan may want to get his lawyer for their meeting. It was so obvious he was trying to help Raylan and she prayed for his sake, Raylan was picking up on it. Brandi had so kindly been filled in on Raylan's antics and had to wonder what on earth goes through his head. When Art and Raylan went into Art's office, she checked her time. It was quarter to nine, they would have to head out in a minute.

"Should we get going?" Brandi asked. Tim nodded.

"Yeah, just gonna finish up something and we'll head out." He said. "Whose car do you wanna take?" He asked, not looking up from his computer as he typed.

"We can take mine, plenty of legroom in the back." Brandi said as she stood, grabbing her travel mug. "I'm gonna go get some coffee for the road." Tim hummed in response and Brandi kept her eyes trained on the inmate being escorted. He was making a fuss about having to take a dump. The moment his chains scuffed along the floors, all eyes were on him. Brandi grabbed the coffee and a leftover bagel from the box someone had kindly brought in. She kept the man in orange in her peripherals.

Brandi returned to her desk and pulled out her gun and badge, clipping them onto her belt. Tim was still staring at his screen and Brandi almost wanted to snort. She put a lid on her to go mug and reached for her tan coat when a commotion across the room caught her attention. She saw one of the guards get tossed to the ground and she reached for her gun. Tim was two steps ahead of her with his gun drawn and bolting away from his desk. Brandi watched as the prisoner put a weapon to the second guard's neck.

"Drop the weapon!" Tim ordered as everyone around the office was running around and pulling out their guns. She was behind Tim on his right with her own gun raised and aiming. "Let him go!" Tim ordered. She saw Raylan out of the corner of her eye leave Art's office. In an instant everyone had their guns raised and a few were shouting orders. Seeing everyone also training their guns, she backed up, lowering her gun and moving to the phone on her desk. She dialed in the number for security that had been written down on the phone's directory. They'd have to lock down the whole floor, maybe even the building.

The prisoner kept closing the doors and threatening to cut the guard as people kept shouting orders. Brandi watched as Raylan and Art moved to an open door way, looking to see if they could get a good visual on the prisoner. Brandi calmly relayed what was happening, still watching the doors.

"Alright, let's lower the weapons, and don't raise them again unless I say otherwise." Art ordered. Everyone slowly began putting their guns down or away. Brandi had already holstered hers again, figuring at least four other guns would be enough. "Let's clear this office, make sure there are no civilians. Rachel call Washington, tell them we need a SOC team down here." Art began ordering. "Brandi, call the jail and tell them to reschedule the prisoner transport for tomorrow." Brandi nodded and wrapped up her initial phone call. She had a list of other numbers taped to her desk. She scanned the list and found the number she needed. She was on the phone and dialing. She took the time to pull her hair back into a ponytail as the call connected. If she needed to shoot, she wanted to make sure her hair was out of her face.

Her heart was pumping fast in a familiar way. It was the adrenaline making it's way through her system. It was almost calming. She could think clearly and stay focused like this. She had a sense of duty and had a job to do.

She was on the phone with the prison and telling them what they needed to know. Just the bare minimum, that something came up and they were unable to do he transport today due to an emergency. The man on the phone wasn't happy but didn't argue too much, though her bare minimum answers didn't give him much room to debate it. Art began talking to the prisoner and Brandi saw the lawyer from earlier walk back into the room. Wasn't he a civilian, too?

Brandi could hear the prisoner shouting at Art and she heard something being moved around. It was something heavy. Raylan disappeared into the room and Art came back out. Art took off his jacket and set it on Rachel's desk as he messed with his holster. He was talking to the lawyer, Vasquez, she heard.

Brandi was finally able to hang up after having heard the man on the other end chew her out and complain about having to deal with the prisoner they really wanted to get rid of. She walked back over to where she originally stood and kept an eye on the doors. She flinched when Tim tapped her arm, getting her attention. He ran into the conference room and she followed.

"Art wants eyes in that room," He explained as they walked. "See if we could get a visual. The guy has the blinds covered."

Brandi stopped when she heard a door open and doubled back two steps. Through the glass she could see the guard's head being stuck out of the door. Art was in the doorway near her and they listened as Raylan and the prisoner talked back and forth. She scowled when he saw Raylan put his gun away. That was risky.

Brandi could hear Tim stepping away from the window in the conference room and moving behind her. She stepped aside, letting him get the better view and Raylan looked over at them. She stayed where he was.

"How'd you get that shiv in there?" Raylan asked.

"Keistered it." The prisoner said proudly. Raylan repeated him with a small smile.

"Now I'm really glad I'm not the one with the shiv in my face." He said. Brandi sighed silently when the prisoner shut the door. Everyone seemed both relieved and irritated. Art came fully into the conference room then.

"We need eyes in there." Art said. "Tim, go get the equipment." Tim nodded and left. "Brandi, see if you can do something about the air vent, but don't take it off the wall completely." Brandi nodded and looked up. She wondered if she would be tall enough. Art started giving other orders but she tuned them out. She pulled over a chair and reached up to make sure she could touch the vent. Art handed her his knife and she slid it into the slot and started bending the metal things in the vent. Tim returned and handed her the cord.

"Feed it through." He told her quietly and she did so, slowly, trying not to make any noise. "Little to the left." Tim said quietly. She glanced over her shoulder and saw he was looking at a screen the camera was sending the video to and directing her. Once they had a good view he tapped the chair. "Ok, stop. That's good." He said quietly. They kept their voices low so they didn't alert the prisoner as to what was going on. Before she could hop down, Tim stuck out his hand and grabbed the arm of the chair, making sure it didn't roll away. Brandi grabbed his outstretched hand and carefully stepped of the chair, nodding in thanks and turning her attention towards the screen.

They watched as the prisoner moved things around, emptied lockers. He started talking to Raylan again, asking if he'd had any experience with hostage situation. Raylan admitted he didn't and they went back and forth over how this was supposed to go down.

"Hey, Brandi." Rachel said to her. Rachel waved her over. "Need a fresh pair of eyes. Trying to see if anything can help us." She explained. Brandi walked over and looked through the file. She looked at the health records first, see if he was dying or if he had a condition that kept him relying on medicine. There was nothing. What next?

"He got tattoos?" Brandi asked. Most inmates have tattoos, but she was curious about ones not commonly gotten in prison. "Any pictures?" Rachel hummed and flipped through, looking for the pictures.

"Here are the pictures, the list should be in here somewhere." Rachel said as she slid over the pictures. They were just mug shots. Rachel slid over the list and kept pulling out the pictures of each tattoo. "Look at this." Rachel said and slid over a picture of the man's chest.

"Simone?" Brandi said. "She in the file? A wife or daughter or something?" Rachel looked through it and shook her head. She called over Raylan. "Tattooed on his chest, gotta be someone special." Brandi watched as Raylan left, thinking about what Rachel just told him.

Brandi listened as Raylan and the prisoner talked about Simone. The longer he talked the more Brandi hated the man, bragging about his first kill and how he'd be the best at being a dead beat dad. The inmate spoke on how shitty the guards were and decided to kick the hostage on the floor for emphasis. She held her breath when she saw him kicking the man that was on the floor. Her ribs ached with sympathy. She looked away from the screen, looking for anything else to looked at while she sounds of the man being kicked filled her ears. She briefly met Tim's gaze but looked away. Soon enough, the kicking was over, it only lasted seconds. She tuned out the rest of the conversation and busied herself with the man's file, looking for something, anything, that could help them.

"Raylan!" Art's voice called across the small office space, pulling him away from the conversation with the inmate and pulling Brandi away from the papers in front of her. Everyone snapped to. Tim moved towards Art's office and Brandi followed. She lingered in the door way, waiting for orders. Tim hovered next to her, near the glass wall, keeping an eye on the screen in the other room.

"Local SWAT team is fifteen minutes out." Art said and handed something to Raylan.

"Lexington SWAT?" Raylan asked with a face that looked like he stepped in dog shit.

"Yeah, so you know how that's gonna play." Art said.

"Just like everywhere else I worked at. Not too big on talkin'." Raylan said. Art hummed and nodded.

"So you know once they get here they're gonna start shooting." Art said.

"I think there's still a chance this ends without anybody dying." Raylan argued. Art looked at him.

"You got fifteen minutes." Art said. Raylan looked at his watch.

"Is there any way we can get some fried chicken up in here?" He asked and Art was just a bit startled. Brandi listened in. She didn't know Raylan well, and whether or not he had a good head on his shoulders was up for debate, but he might not have a bad idea.

"Fried chicken?" He asked, making sure he heard right.

"Spicy." Raylan specified.

"You think spicy fried chicken's gonna bring him out?" Art asked.

"If what he's lookin' for is a way out that doesn't require him to admit he's scared to die…" Raylan explained. Art sighed. The lawyer, Vasquez, sitting on the couch spoke up, startling Brani. She hadn't even noticed him there.

"Hell why don't we give it a shot?" He suggested and Art shook his head.

"Tim, go get some." He ordered and they started pooling in some cash. Brandi pulled out her wallet and took out a few bills while Vasquez and Art started handing Tim some cash. Tim took it and started out the door. Brandi saw him grab his keys and she swore quietly to herself. Brandi ran out the door after him, brushing past a few people and running down the hall. She just barely caught up with him and jumped into the elevator as the doors were closing.

"What are you doing?" He asked as she repeatedly hit the button that closed the doors and hit the button for the lobby.

"You grabbed your car keys, that means you plan on driving." She pointed out as the elevator began to move. "That'll take too much time. There's a chicken place two blocks down and around the corner. Dealing with cars are gonna take too much time."

"And you're gonna show me the way." Tim finished. She hummed. "How do you know this is quicker?" Tim asked as he leaned against the wall. Brandi smiled.

"I've done my fair share of chicken runs." She answered. Tim straightened up when the elevator dinged. "Hope you can run." Brandi joked. The moment the doors opened, the two took off like bats out of hell. Brandi ran as fast as she could, sprinting through the lobby and down the street. Tim was able to keep up with her easily. Her blood pumped faster and faster as adrenaline coursed through her. She envied his long legs but was happy to see she could keep pace with him.

They took off down the two blocks and Tim followed her when she turned. He could see he sign for Zippy's and ran past her into the restaurant. He had his badge out in a flash and Brandi ran in after him.

"That's the last order for today." The man said as Tim ran in back.

"I'll take it." He said.

"Like hell you will!" The man said as he started towards Tim.

"I'm officially requisitioning this chicken." Tim just brushed past him and grabbed the chicken and left the money. "That should cover it." He said as he walked away, chicken in hand.

"If that doesn't cover it, send an invoice to the courthouse a few blocks down." Brandi told him as Tim brushed past her and out the door she held open."What do I tell the customer?" He asked.

"Tell them the U.S. Marshal's Service thanks them for their patriotism." Brandi said following Tim out the door.

"Thanks." Tim said and nodded at her before the two took off down the street again. They were back there in a matter of minutes. Tim had tucked the food under his arm like a football and they sprinted back. They took the stairs two at a time, not bothering to wait for another elevator.

"That chicken smells amazing right now." Brandi said as they climbed up. Tim smirked.

"I'm sure they won't notice if you take a piece." He joked. Brandi snorted. Tim showed his badge when they hit the floor they needed and Brandi followed him. She stopped following him right outside the bullpen. She stopped short and looked around. The room was filled with men in armor, holding weapons aimed at the room where the convict was. Tim kept walking, he had chicken to deliver. Brandi slowly made her way around the men and into Art's office. She couldn't help but notice a look of hesitant relief on the man's face. Tim came rushing back into Art's office looking for something.

"Bourbon, where is it?" Tim asked. Art pulled it out of its hiding spot and handed it to Tim. Tim nodded and took it back into the conference room. Brandi waited in Art's office, out of the way of the swat team, with Rachel and Tim. Everyone seemed to hold their breath while Raylan talked to the inmate. It took a few minutes of talking and eating chicken, but Raylan got the man to give himself up. The SWAT team filed in and took him down, as Raylan told the man they would. It was quick and went off without issue. Once they hauled him away, things started settling down and people began putting the office back together. Brandi helped wrap up the camera line they fed into the vents and after a while, she returned to her desk.

"Hell of a first day." Tim said as he stopped next to her desk.

"Second day, remember?" She said with a small smile, referring to their earlier conversation. "Suddenly, Mr. Tall Dark and Violent seems a lot less interesting."

"Ain't that the truth." He said as he sat in his own desk. Silence passed for a few minutes before he spoke up.

"Look, I was thinking," He paused, pretending to think over his words, and spun in his chair to face her. Brandi's ears were open but kept her eyes on her screen as she typed up her incident report. "I got a lot of paper work goin' on right now and seeing as you were practically my shadow today-" He began and Brandi giggled and stuck her hand out.

"Gimme." She said with a smile, not minding the extra busywork. Tim smiled and put it in her hand.

"You're gonna get along here just fine." Tim said with a smile.

"Well, I'm just assuming that one day down the line, I'm gonna be up to my ass in paperwork and you're gonna be a knight in shining armor and gonna offer to do some for me." Brandi said as she leaned back and turned her chair to face him, small smile on her face. Tim snorted as he turned back to face his desk. She rolled her eyes teasingly. "And I don't really have anything better to do." She admitted and turned to deal with her own work. Tim chuckled again. Brandi enjoyed hearing it. Though they may have been a bit cold towards each other at first, they seemed to be a bit more sociable with each other after the chicken run.

"Don't worry, that don't last long here." He said. Brandi hummed. "Well, at least tomorrow will be a slow day." He added.

"What, with the transport?" Brandi asked. Tim nodded.

"Yup, usually they go pretty smooth." Tim told her.

"Well, that was supposed to be today and look what happened. Don't jinx us now." Brandi joked and checked her watch. It still wasn't time yet. "How late do you think we'll be tonight?"

"Can't say for sure." Tim answered. "Got somewhere to be?"

"I just need to actually go get a pillow for tonight." She explained and rubbed her neck.

"Where are you staying?" Tim asked, confused.

"My family's home. Got no furniture in it so I'm just crashing on the floor."

"Might as well be camping." Tim pointed out in his dry tone.

"I always loved the great out doors." Brandi quipped back in the same tone with a smile, stealing a glance in his direction before getting back to work.


	2. New Bed

Brandi stepped into the old diner and looked around for her friend. She smiled as her friend, Maura, stood and waved her over to their booth. Brandi practically ran to her friend and the two women wrapped their arms around each other tightly before Brandi pulled back, her hands still on Maura's shoulders.

"Look at you!" She said fondly, "A mother and still skinny as a twig!" Brandi teased and Maura rolled her eyes but still smiled.

"And look at you, just the same as you were the day you left." She laughed, looking her friend over. "Come on, I already ordered for us." She said as she slid into her seat.

"How did you know I didn't want something different?" Brandi joke.

"Brandi, as long as I've known you, have you ever ordered anything different here?" She laughed at her friend and Brandi just couldn't stop smiling. "Stop being silly and drink your beer. You look like you need one." Brandi saluted her with her glass and started in, taking a few big gulps before setting it back down. She took a minute to look over Maura. Maura was a poster child for country girl. Dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes, a splash of freckles across her face and smile that could melt your heart. Her laugh was sweet as honey and Brandi regretted ever leaving her behind. "What's wrong?" Maura asked, smile falling. Brandi tried to give a reassuring smile.

"Nothing, don't worry about it." She tried to wave it off.

"You're kickin' yourself for leavin' aren't ya." Maura saw right through her and giggled. "Brandi, we've been friends since we could crawl. I know you better than you know yourself. Stop givin' yourself grief for leaving. You did what you had to do." Maura reached across the table and took her hand. Brandi squeezed it tight and she could feel the cold diamond ring, it almost seemed to burn. "Brandi, this place was killing you. I don't blame you or hold it against you." Brandi's chest tightened and she tried to swallow but her throat had closed up. She could just stare at Maura, beautiful, kind, sweet Maura.

"Alright, ladies." The waitress interrupted sweetly and Maura swiftly took her hand back and Brandi was almost startled by the emptiness of her hand. The waitress set down their food and Brandi cleared her throat, blinking away the stinging in her eyes. It was years ago, it was time to let it all go.

"This looks so good!" Maura said brightly and Brandi looked at the food before her. The steak and potatoes hadn't changed and she smiled before stabbing her fork into the mashed potatoes and took a big bite. Suddenly, warmth filled her and she felt her shoulders relax. Brandi leaned back and closed her eyes. She could hear Maura laugh at her. "What is it with you and those damn potatoes?"

"Aw man, no man could ever make me happier than these potatoes." Brandi joked after swallowing.

"Is that what you're doing back here in Clays Ferry?" Maura asked and Brandi avoided the question, instead drinking more of her beer and finishing the glass. "Ok, fine!" Maura giggled, taking the hint. "Keep your secrets."

"Things just went a little sour is all." Brandi told her, keeping it brief. "Besides, now that mom's gone, someone has to take care of that house."

"Last I recall, she didn't exactly take too good care of it." Maura pointed out. Brandi chuckled.

"That is an understatement." Brandi agreed and took a bite of the steak. It was still just as good as the last time she had it. "So, where is my goddaughter?"

"She's at home with Sean." Maura told her. "She's about as rowdy and energetic as we was." Brandi smiled at that.

"I'll make sure to teach her how not to get in trouble." Brandi promised and Maura glared at her before shaking her head. "Besides, she's got a friend in high places to get her out of what trouble she does run into." Maura laughed quietly at that. The two girls sat and ate and drank. They swapped pictures. Brandi looked at the pictures of Maura's daughter and Brandi showed her some of the friends she had made in Virginia. They laughed and joked for hours and it was almost like they had gone back in time. Once again they were teenagers, spending their hard earn money they had scammed from their classmates on the best food Brandi would eat that week. They giggled at inside jokes and filled each other in on gossip from their worlds. They were in their own world, filled with life and laughter.

The light and laughter Brandi had with Maura was so different than the dark silence she felt standing on her front porch. The light illuminated the front door and she could see moths fluttering around it. The boards creaked under her boots and she turned and looked over the field that surrounded her house. The trees kept out the noise of the highway, dimming it to a barely noticeable hum. She could hear the buzzing of the bugs and the rustling of the leaves in the slight breeze. Brandi took in a deep breath and looked at the sky. She could smell the rain coming and headed inside the dark house. she didn't bother turning on the lights and headed up the steps, knowing her way around the house like the back of her hand, having to sneak in the dark many times growing up. She kicked off her boots and dropped her jacket on the floor of her bathroom, just crawling into her sleeping bag, still in her clothes.

The storm rolled in and she heard the rain hitting the roof and the wind rushing around the house. Brandi tossed and turned, wanting to just sleep. The night was long, and she wasn't quite sure when she fell asleep, but she woke up to the sun shining in her face. She could see the dust settling in the rays of light. Brandi creaked and groaned and crawled out of her sleeping bag and into the bathroom. The hot water washed away the remnants of her restless sleep and she pulled on jeans and a pullover hoodie. She padded barefoot down to the kitchen. She had cleaned it over the week and stocked up on some basics, even bought a new coffee machine. She had washed what dishes had survived over the years and pulled out her old mug. She stood in the kitchen, looking around at the peeling wallpaper, the faded and cracked paint and the state of it all was depressing. She made up her mind.

It was Saturday and she was going to fix it all up. So, she knocked back her coffee, grabbed her boots and wallet and climbed into her truck. The gravel skid under her tires as she hauled it up to Lexington to grab what she needed. When she returned she started in the kitchen and peeled off the wallpaper and thanked God there was no mold behind it. It took her a few hours to rip it all off. The paper that was once eggshell white was more of a tan and she shoved it into a black trash bag. She looked around at the bare walls and decided it was time for lunch. She had shed her hoodie and pulled her hair in a bun.

Her mother stood in front of the sink, cigarette hanging from her mouth as usual while she stared out the window, looking out over the field, mind miles away but the wine just an arm's length away.

Brandi shook her head, shoved the rest of the sandwich in her mouth and slapped the can of paint on the covered table, popped it open and poured the yellow paint into the pan. She shoved down the memory, Yellow was a happy color and by God she was going to turn this kitchen into a happy place. She was in such a hurry to get the paint on the wall she tripped and stumbled over the painter's cloth and dropped paint down her front.

"Shit." Yellow paint stained her tank top and had splashed onto her jeans. She looked down at the mess and before she could move to clean her self up there was a knock on the front door. Brandi put the pan down and looked around for a rag but the knocking came again. Brandi groaned and walked down the hall to the front door. She yanked it open with a rude "What?"

Art stood there, the screen door separating them. He had an amused look on his face as he looked at her standing there with yellow paint all over her and a scowl.

"Oh, sorry." Brandi apologized. "What are you doing here?"

"Wanted to swing by and check on you." Art explained. "See how you were settling in. I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

"No." Brandi answered and opened the screen door. "Come on in, sorry the place is a mess."

"I'll try not to judge." Art teased and Brandi snorted as she walked down the hall. "I take it you're redecorating." He said as he followed her into the kitchen.

"Feels more like reconstructing." She joked and opened the fridge. "You want a beer?" She asked and pulled out two. Without even hearing his response she used a bottle opener on both.

"I guess I do." Art said and took the beer she offered. They both took a swig and he looked around at the now stripped wall. He set his baseball cap on the table. "I can't tell you how strange it is to be sitting here in your kitchen and having a beer." Brandi smiled at him and took another sip.

"Wasn't the last time you were here because-"

"Picking you up and serving your mother papers." Art smiled and took a drink. "So, yellow, hu?"

"Figured it's a happy color." Brandi explained. "Gonna make this a happy home." She finished firmly. She had made up her mind and was sticking to it. Art smiled at her and looked around once more. It wasn't what he had in mind for his Saturday, but what the hell?

"You got another roller?" He asked and Brandi just looked at him confused. "I'm not gonna make you paint this whole kitchen by yourself." She smiled at him and pulled out another roller and paint pan from a plastic bag.

"You sure about this?" She asked him with a smile. "If you're not careful I might try to rope you in to helping me with the whole house."

"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't offer." Art assured her with his smile as he shed his coat. "Shall we?"

By the time Art left the sun had already set and she waved him off from her front porch. She watched as he drove off, his tail lights fading into the night and once more she was alone in the silence, but this time, it wasn't so deafening. With a smile she let the door shut behind her and walked back to the kitchen. The two of them had worked through the afternoon and gotten the whole kitchen done and she had even roped him in to helping her next weekend.

"Tomorrow I get a bed." She said to herself with a content smile on her face.

"Mornin' sunshine." Tim said as he walked over to his desk. He looked over at Brandi who had her head in her hands and her hair falling around her. He leaned against his desk. "You look like shit." He drawled. She just hummed. "Have a good weekend?" He asked and crossed his arms. Brandi lifted her head and fixed him with a look he couldn't quite describe.

"Do you ever work?" Brandi asked. "Or do you just sit around and shoot the shit." Tim shrugged.

"I work." He defended with a small smile and crossed his arms.

"What are you doing right now?" Brandi asked. Tim just looked at her with an exasperated stare. "See what I mean?"

"Well, it won't last long. I think Art's gonna send us out today." Tim said as he turned to his desk and sat down, logging on to do what paperwork he could.

"Oh yeah?" Brandi said. "Why's that?"

"Because Raylan isn't here to do it." Tim said as he started to do his paperwork.

"Speaking of, how much trouble you think he's getting into right now?" Brandi asked. Tim snorted.

"I hope he's not even awake yet." Tim said as he checked his email.

"I just hope he does what he's told." Brandi said. Tim hummed.

"I wouldn't hold your breath." Tim said and Brandi groaned, putting her head back in her hands. "I know." He said sympathetically, referring to her groan. "It's like dealing with an eigth grader."

"Alright you, two. Head on out." Art said as he got in and walked past them towards his office. Tim and Brandi started grabbing their things and she shoved some paperwork into a bag with the laptop. She might was well get some work done. "How's the new bed?" Art asked, stopping by her desk for a moment.

"Ya know, I got so used to sleepin' on the floor I almost miss it." She told him with a smile. He just laughed his way into his office and Brandi smiled to herself and walked towards the elevator, catching up with Tim.

"So you got a new bed." Tim said, striking up a conversation. "Get a good chance to break it in?" He asked as the elevator rolled down. Brandi smiled to herself, a small blush creeping across her face.

"Didn't get it made until last night," She explained. "Most people aren't lookin' for fun on a Sunday night." Brandi heard his snort and glanced over at him to see a wide smile on his face as he looked down and shifted his weight. Nervous smiler.

"Not what I meant." He said as they stepped into the lobby. Brandi just smirked to herself.

"You're driving."


	3. Rock Salt

Brandi and Tim had climbed into Tim's shiny truck and rolled out. The two stopped for coffee and food, preparing to settle in for a long day. They drove a short while and Brandi looked out the window, seeing the older run down neighborhood rush by before Tim slowed and started looking for a spot.

"That's our house right there." He said and pointed it out. It was a small white house with a chain fence. It was missing some siding and moss was growing on the roof. One of the windows was boarded up and the other had broken blinds over it. The front porch was small with two plastic chairs and a couple of boxes acting as a small table. Trash and clutter seemed to flow from the porch to the yard and along the side fence that was covered in ivy.

"We're gonna stick out like a sore thumb." Brandi said and turned to look at him. Tim put his hand on the back of her seat and looked over his shoulder, backing the truck into a spot next to the curb on the opposite side of the street.

"Yeah, well we aren't really expecting him to come out." Tim explained. "Besides, not our money we're wastin'." He finished with a lazy smile. Brandi rolled her eyes and started pulling out some of the forms she had been working on earlier that morning.

"But it is our time we're wasting." She retorted and she leaned over, digging in her bag for the pen that had shifted to the bottom. After a sigh of frustration and a whispered swear, she sat up, pulling out her pen with a small smile. She glanced at Tim and furrowed her eyebrows.

"You gonna do something?" Brandi asked as he sat there, almost still as a statute. He rolled his head to look at her and then rolled it back to face the house.

"I'm doing it."

"Are you just gonna sit and watch all day?" She followed up in disbelief.

"Yup." Tim answered. Short and to the point. Brandi bobbed her head from side to side.

"Ok, then." She gave up and started reading the form and filling it out. The two sat in silence for a while after that. Tim stared at the house and it was almost creepy how still he could be. Brandi buried herself in the work she brought with her, sipping her warm coffee. Time ticked by and eventually the two broke into some of the food they brought alone. Though they were quite, Brandi found it was a comfortable silence. Tim was a quiet man with a quick wit. They had a similar sense of humor and worked well together, falling into a rhythm quickly. She had only been there a week but found her little group had adjusted well to her presence. They seemed to be a better team with one more person to clean up after Raylan and his messes. She was quick on the paperwork and got a hang of the systems quickly, well the ones she had access to. Brandi enjoyed working with them all so far, but found she much preferred working with Tim.

Brandi smiled to herself as she chewed on the end of her pen, her mind starting to wander. She found herself thinking back on Tim's comment from earlier in the day. He was kinda cute like that, realizing what his comment came off as. She thought about his question. As innocent as it was, she couldn't help but think about it. She briefly wondered who could help her and found she really liked the idea of breaking in the bed with a certain blonde marshal.

She was ripped out of her thoughts when a hand entered her field of vision and she startled, flinching away out of reflex. Tim paused and looked at her for a second before continuing his reach for the glove box. He popped it open and Brandi shifted, giving him space to open it up as much as he could. He grabbed what he needed and snapped it closed. Brandi huffed a bit.

"Tell me again why we aren't in the surveillance van?" Brandi asked, embarrassed.

"Well, for one, it's still in the shop." Tim explained as he lifted fidgeted with the thing in his hand. It was a stress ball. He seemed to have the stashed everywhere. "Art said he'd come by later and relieve us with it."

"Ah." Brandi nodded as she started putting the papers away. "And we couldn't wait?"

"Can you honestly tell me sitting in the van is more comfortable than my truck?" Tim asked, looking at her with a lazy half smile. Brandi looked at him.

"Well, I haven't had the pleasure of camping out in the van yet." She pointed out. "Who knows, maybe I'll love it."

"Wouldn't surprise me, especially if you like sleeping on the floor more than the bed." He teased her. Brandi just scowled. He was too quick for his own good.

"Why are we here again?" She asked, shifting in her seat. Tim smirked.

"Well, we received a tip that a possible fugitive is squatting in this house. We are here to see if there is any truth to that." Tim explained in his southern drawl. "Basically, we have to sit here until we get probable cause or the warrant gets approved." Brandi groaned.

"I'm gonna die in this damn truck." She grunted and rubbed her forehead.

"Don't diss my truck." Tim said with a smirk, feigning offence.

"Shove it up your ass." Brandi snorted. Tim chuckled quietly.

"Now darlin' don't threaten me with a good time." He shot back, earning a snort from Brandi before the two lapsed back into silence. Brandi rested her elbow next to the window and rested her head on her hand. Tim heard her sigh through her nose and maybe three minutes passed before she spoke again.

"How did you do it?" She asked. Tim frowned and looked at her.

"What, shove a truck up my ass? Lot's of patience." He answered with a smirk. Brandi snorted and swatted at his shoulder, shoving him slightly. But he could see the smile on her face.

"Bein' a jack ass ain't cute." Brandi told him. "I mean how can you just sit here, staring at a house all day. I've been doing it for maybe five minutes and I'm goin' stir crazy."

"Lots of practice." He said, still looking ahead. Brandi looked at him for a moment, studying his face. He looked like he usually does, face blank, almost bored.

"Military thing?" She asked.

"Yup."

"You miss it?" She asked. He snapped his head to her, looking at her dead on, looking her over. What the hell was he looking for? Brandi just sat there, waiting for his response. Tim looked ahead again.

"Sometimes." Tim admitted. "Though, I don't exactly miss this part." He explained and shifted, crossing his arms. Brandi hummed in amusement and took the hint. She looked ahead to the house and let her mind wander as they fell back into a silence.

The silence didn't last long when they saw someone pull a tab of the blinds down and let it snap back into place. They couldn't see anyone, they were too far away, but it at least told them someone was in there.

"Shit." Tim mumbled and pulled out his phone, calling Art.

"I didn't see him. Did you?" Brandi asked her partner. Tim shook his head, a serious look on his face. "I take it that don't count as probable cause." She stated.

"No." He told her. "Hey Art, we got confirmation someone is in there and there's a chance they know we're here." Brandi could hear that Art was talking but not what was being said. "Right, got it." Tim said and hung up the phone.

"What's the plan?" She asked as he started grabbing his things and pulling out his gun. Brandi followed suit.

"Art and the other two are on their way with the van. They're only a few minutes out." Tim explained. "He wants us to go ahead and see if we can't scare him out."

"I'll take the front and you circle around back in case he runs?" Brandi asked as she undid her belt and opened her door. Tim gave her small smirk and nodded his head.

"Ready when you are, darlin'" Tim drawled as he opened his own door. Brandi smiled and hopped out, walking up the street and to the house, Tim behind her. Once they got through the fence, he went for the side, heading towards the back. She watched him go and started up the steps slowly, hearing her heavy boots on the old wood steps. They creaked under her weight and her heart raced. Brandi didn't know who or what was behind that door and she had to be ready for anything. Her gun was drawn and it felt heavy in her hands. She was embarrassed to notice her hands were sweating. It had been a while since she actually pointed a gun at someone and it wasn't her most favorite pastime.

After what felt like minutes, she reached the porch. Brandi paused and listened, trying to see if she could hear anyone moving behind the door, or anywhere in the house. She heard tires on the pavement and the engine of a large vehicle and she turned to look over her shoulder. A large plain van rolled up parked on the street and she could see her coworkers inside. Brandi heard wood creaking and snapped around, raising her gun and before she could announce herself, the blast of a shotgun rang through the quiet neighborhood.

In a second her heart dropped to her stomach. Before she could take in a breath, the blast knocked her backwards off the porch. The blast of the shot hit her full in the chest and it erupted in pain. It burned and she couldn't breathe. The world spun as she fell and hit the pavement, smacking her head as she landed.

Art, Raylan, and Rachel watched as Brandi fell backwards. Time seemed to slow and they jumped out of the van, pulling out their guns, firing at the door. The sound of shots being fired had alerted Tim and he came running around the front of the house. Rachel and Raylan stopped firing and Art had pulled out his phone, calling for an ambulance and backup as Rachel and Raylan advanced forward. Tim paused for a second, making sure the coast was clear and rushed to Brandi, crouching low. He holstered his gun and grabbed under her arms, dragging her limp body across the yard and out of the way of further gun fire.

As the other three advanced, Raylan ran around the back and Tim heard him kick the door open. Art covered Rachel as she pushed open the front door. Tim turned his attention to his coworker, the one he was charged with protecting, watching over. She was out cold and he looked at her chest. Her shirt was shredded and he could see the blood seeping through. None of the wounds looked deep and he could see some fragments of rock salt and pushed the guilt aside. It wasn't a real round. Tim turned his attention to her head and gently probed behind her head. Brandi winced a bit and he felt something wet and pulled back, seeing blood on his fingertips. Tim gently pat her face, trying to bring her around.

"Brandi." He called her name firmly. "Brandi are you with me?" He asked. "Come on back now." He said as he heard a grunt and she rolled her head to the side, almost leaning into his hand. She bent her leg at the knee, groaning as the pain started to register.

"Shit." She breathed and a weak cough came up, making her gasp and grimace in pain. "Fuck." She hissed. After a few seconds she was able to open her eyes. Tim watched as she slowly looked around, squinting at the sun in her eyes. "It hurts." She gasped out. "It hurts to breathe." She reported and looked at him. Tim had cracked a smile, relieved to see she was awake and aware. "What….happened?" Brandi wheezed out and tried to lift sit up. The pain made her yelp in pain and she stayed on the ground. Tim rested his hand on her shoulder but she reached up her hand and he took it in his out of reflex. He grasped her hand firmly, letting her know he was there keeping her grounded.

"Don't move. You smacked your face pretty hard." He instructed. "Our buddy shot you full of rock salt, too." Tim heard a commotion and his hands went to reach for his gun, but paused. Raylan was leading out a very angry man who was cussing up a storm. Raylan was none too gentle with him and Rachel followed, gun at the ready. Art came out of the house last and looked over to the two in the yard. He made his way down the steps and jogged over.

Brandi saw a figure loom over her and as he knelt down on the other side of her, the blurry figure cleared and she saw Art's worried face starting down at her from under his baseball cap.

"How is she?" He asked, clearly concerned for the young woman.

"She's ok." Tim assured him.

"Hey, Art." Brandi whispered hoarsely with a weak smile.

"Brandi, where the hell is your vest?" He asked, incredulous in his usual irritated parent tone she was so used to.

"I forgot it." She answered honestly, her smile still in place. "Sor-" She was cut off when a cough wracked through her and she gasped and choked on a loud pained noise. Her arms tried to wrap around her chest out of reflex and Art and Tim stopped her, not wanting to risk her hurting herself more. They waited patiently as she caught her breath and settled down.

"Look, Brandi, just lay still." Art told her. "Ambulance should be here any minute now."

"Ground's cold," she told them as she tried to blink away the tears brought on by her coughing fit. "Can I sit in the truck?"

"We should see if she's got anything serious before we move her." Tim told Art bluntly. "If we move her and she has a real bleeder she could bleed out." He sounded as though he spoke from experience.

"Alright, let's take a look." Art approved with a nod. Tim's hands went for the buttons on the top of her blouse. She was wearing another button up thankfully. Brandi didn't have the energy to move, but she still had the strength to give them a hard time.

"Buy me dinner first." Brandi teased hoarsely and she could see Tim's smirk and hear Art's tired sigh. It didn't quite reach his eyes but he humored her as he continued to undo her shirt.

"Sorry, sweetheart, we gotta do this a little backwards." He told her as he continued to undo her shirt. He carefully peeled the shredded fabric away from her skin, his face unreadable and all business. Through the blood, they could see some of the chunks still sticking into her skin. A few of the larger pieces had gone through her bra, but luckily it seemed the smaller bits were stopped by the extra layer of fabric. The abrasions stretched from the base of her throat to just below her ribcage and extended from shoulder to shoulder. They could already see some bruising forming around her ribcage. They'd have to be careful moving her. Brandi watched as his face didn't change, giving her no indication of how bad it was.

"Nothing looks too deep, but you're definitely bleeding." Tim reported calmly.

"Then why can't I sit up?" She asked and began to shift. Her ribs were begging her not to move and the stinging alone almost made her give up but she grunted and started to sit up anyway. The ground was way too cold and damp for her liking. Tim helped her up, a hand on her back.

"Well, you're not supposed to move if you just smacked your head." Tim told her. "But I take it you don't care about that." He drawled. Brandi nodded.

"Too cold and damp." She wheezed. "Rather sit in the truck."

"You are here for barely a week and you go and get yourself shot." Art scolded her as though he caught her hand in the cookie jar. He and Tim gingerly helped her stand and she swayed as the world spun. They steadied her and let her pause for a minute and get her bearings back. After a moment, she fumbled with the zipper on the front of her Marshal jacket and zipped it up, trying to cover up at least a little. Art and Tim guided her over to the van where they popped open the side door and let her sit, rather than making her climb into the truck. Sirens sounded in the distance.

"You doin' ok?" Rachel walked over and asked her, passing her a bottle of water. Brandi nodded her throbbing head and her vision swam as she tried to open in. Seeing her struggling, Rachel took it back gently and cracked it open for her. Brandi gave a weak smile. She was grateful for her coworkers, particularly Rachel's patience. The woman was something else. She was always calm, even when she meant business, and she helped Brandi out with a few things when Tim wasn't around. They even got a chance to gossip every once in a while. She was so used to being around men, she had forgotten how refreshing it was to work with another woman.

The ambulance came and Brandi didn't have the energy to fight back. They let her load her up in a stretcher and get her into the ambulance. They took a minute to get her situated and look her over. More Marshal's arrived with the proper vehicle to take in someone.

"I'm gonna ride with her to the hospital." Art told his group, his hands on his hips and they listened to him. They stood in a small circle, some with their arms crossed, some with their hands on their hips.

"Rachel, Raylan, you two go on back to the office." He instructed. "Get started on the paperwork, see if we can get this finished up quickly." The two of them nodded in agreement.

"Yes, sir." Rachel answered.

"Tim, you can follow us to the hospital." Art explained. "We'll probably need a lift back."

"You don't think they'll keep her?" Rachel asked.

"No, her injuries don't seem too extensive." Art explained and a tired smile crept onto his face and he shook his head. "Besides, I don't think they can keep her any longer than she lets them."

"Sounds like you've been through this before." Raylan pointed out quietly, almost amused.

"More times than I care to recall." Art admitted and Raylan just smiled. "Alright, let's get this shit wrapped up."

Tim and Art stood in the hall of the hospital, waiting to hear about their coworker. They stood talking to each other. Tim was giving him a rundown of what was in the guy's file. There wasn't anything to suggest he'd be violent. Up until this point, he had only had non-violent offences. He hadn't even had a gun under his name. They were interrupted when a nurse approached the two.

"I'm looking for Art Mullen." She announced, looking between the two.

"That would be me." He announced, turning to her. "What can I do for you?"

"You were listed as her emergency contact." She informed him. "I need to go over some things with you." She explained and looked at Tim with a glare. "Are you her boyfriend?" She asked in harsh tone, eyeing him up and down, noticing his stern face and crossed arms. Tim bobbed his head and blinked rapidly, confusion clear even on his stoic face. Art just snorted and kept to himself.

"Her coworker." Tim corrected, meeting her firm tone. The nurse stared him down and he met her gaze. He held firm and she seemed to be debating something.

"I vouch for him." Art intervened. "Is there something we can help you with?" He asked. The nurse pursed her lips a bit and looked back at Art.

"Ms. Calhoun will be fine. I just wanted to ask a few questions." She explained. Art nodded

"Ok, shoot" Art told her, resting his hands on his hips.

"Is she living with someone? Has she just ended a relationship? Has she been in an accident or anything?" The nurse asked. Art looked at her for a minute before looking at Tim, both sharing a look of confusion.

"She lives alone now. I don't think she's been in an accident. Why?" He asked, not sure what she was getting at. The nurse sighed.

"Come with me please." She instructed and led the two men to an exam room. She closed the door behind her and flipped on some lights on the wall. She pulled out two x-rays and clipped them up. They could see the fractures clear as day.

"Normally, it takes more than a fall to break or fracture ribs for a woman of her age." The nurse explained. "The force of the shot gun did help, but the fractures and breaks should not have been this severe." She pointed to the major fractures. "These are fractures from today, but if you look closer, you can see some older ones." She began to point to small, barely noticeable fractures. "These are consistent with long term abuse."

"She had an abusive mother growing up." Art disclosed. "Could they be from that?" He asked. She hummed.

"It's possible for the older ones, like here." She explained. "But these are barely a month old and look suspiciously like a boot." The nurse told him, looking at the two men. "In addition to this, her shoulder has been repeatedly dislocated." Art and Tim took in the information in silence, Art clenching his jaw. "I also had to take a few pictures." She announce and pulled out the pictures, handing them over to the two men. One was a bite mark on her upper arm that had been healed for a while and faded to a white scar. On her upper shoulder, on her back, it looked like she was hit with something made of glass, scaring littering her skin, mixed with old scars that were starting to fade and new ones that were just starting to scar over. Art scowled. What the hell happened to her? "I took these to add to the file in case she eventually wants to press charges."

"I wouldn't even know who this could be. I'm just her boss." Art told her. "Have you spoken to her about this?"

"No." She said shaking her head. "She knows I took the picture, but I didn't bring it up. I get the feeling she wouldn't speak to use anyway." The nurse shifted on her feet almost worriedly. "Look, I'm not even supposed to be telling you both this, but I've seen enough of these kinds of injuries to know what's going on." Art nodded, knowing she wouldn't have said anything if she didn't think he could be trusted.

"Thank you for letting me know." He told her quietly, looking at the picture in his hands one more time before handing it back. Tim handed back his picture as well. The nurse nodded.

"I just needed to know if there was a possibility she would be going home to a dangerous situation. She's lucky nothing stabbed her lungs." The nurse explained. "She has a pretty severe concusion. We recommend she not be alone at least for the first twenty four hours." The nurse instructed and Art listened and nodded.

"How long do I need to keep her out of the office?" Art asked. The nurse thought for a while.

"For the concussion, give her at least a week or until the symptoms are gone. For the ribs, she needs to rest again. Ice and Tylenol will help. No advil, it could make her head more likely to bleed." The nurse began explaining. "They won't heal completely for six weeks. She could probably be good in a week or two for desk work, it depends on how bad she wants to get back." Art nodded and smiled.

"Thank you." He said. The nurse took the x-rays and began walking out of the room. Art and Tim followed her back out into the hall. "How much longer until she's ready?"

"She should be ready in a few minutes." The nurse told them. "Excuse me." She said as she walked away to take care of other patients.

"I'll have to call Leslie, see if she don't mind havin' a guest for the night." Art explained and pulled out his phone.

"I can take her." Tim offered. Art looked at him, studying his employee carefully.

"She can stay at my place." He offered again, putting his hands in his back pockets. "I got a couch. I don't sleep much these days anyway. I'll watch her." Art sighed and put a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"This ain't a guilt thing, is it?" Art asked carefully. Tim shrugged with a small smile, looking away for a second.

"I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't feel a bit responsible." He admitted, meeting Art's stare. "But it isn't something I'm gonna eat myself up over, if that's what you're worried about.

"Alright." Art said, convinced enough.

"Home sweet home." Tim told her as opened the door to his apartment. He dropped the keys onto the small hall table that held a lamp and stepped in, holding the door open for her. Brandi lumbered in, still sluggish from the pain meds they had her on.

"Thanks." She mumbled and looked around. It was an older apartment and was hardly decorated. The kitchen was the first room she saw. It was small and had a few dirty dishes in the sink and a few things on the counter needed for cooking. One of those magnetic calendars was on the fridge and couple of magnets. He closed the door behind her and she looked back at him. He motioned for her to go ahead in. Brandi walked further in and he flipped on some lights. The living room had worn furniture. A couch was pushed up against a wall and TV was pushed against the wall opposite. A heavy wood coffee table rested between them. On the other side of the room, facing them, was a worn out chair sitting just under the window. A blanket was folded over ther back of the couch and one was tossed haphazardly on the chair.

"Pardon the mess." Tim said as he grabbed the stacks of junk mail and spare bottles from the coffee table. She saw the end table with the lamp and noticed a few picture frames. A clock ticked on the wall above the couch and a plant sat on the window sill. She smiled to herself. It was cozy and looked lived in.

"It's a nice place." She said as she lowered herself onto the couch and leaned back slowly. She winced but quickly relaxed into the couch, closing her eyes and letting her shoulders relax.

"What, you think I lived in a hut?" He asked lightly from the kitchen and she heard the bottles clink in the trashcan. She looked at him and smiled. He looked at her for a minute before clearing his throat. "I'm gonna order some food. Chinese ok?"

"Fine by me." She said quietly. Brandi was exhausted and still a little drowsy. "Thanks again for letting me crash here." Tim didn't say anything and continued looking through a drawer for a takeout menu. Brandi smiled to herself and leaned her head back, closing her eyes. She heard him ordering food and then moving about his kitchen. She was just starting to doze off when something cold was placed gently against her face. Her eyes snapped open and above her, Tim was staring at her, his eyebrows furrowed like he was concentrating on something. Brandi could see something else, she could see the slight concern in his eyes. Brandi smiled softly up at him.

"I'm still alive." She told him. His face relaxed ever so slightly before he let his smirk slide in. He lifted the large bag of ice and placed it on her face. Brandi frowned and grabbed the ice, lifting her head up and removing the ice.

"Good. Don't need to explain to Art how you died in my house." Tim said as he pulled out his phone and sat down next to her on the other side of the couch. He had his phone in one hand and a beer in the other. She took the bag of ice and rested it on her ribs, but it was difficult just holding it there. Her head hurt, her chest hurt, she didn't quite know here to put it. Brandi just leaned her head back and let out a sigh.

"How's your head?" He asked her, trying to make conversation and keep her awake.

"It feels about as great as my ribs." Brandi told him. She heard him snort. "I can't believe it. My first stake out and I get shot." She heard him laughing quietly and swatted at him without looking. "Don't be a jerk." She joked and closed her eyes. She inhaled as deep as she could. Brandi took in what she could. The couch, though the fabric was a little rough, was cushy. Soft enough to swallow you, but firm enough you wouldn't get stuck. She let her fingers run over the couch fabric, just feeling it. The apartment was quiet, occasionally she could hear Tim taking a sip of his beer, his dog tags jingling. A door would open and close, a neighbor coming home. She inhaled again, taking note of the smell. Surprisingly, the place didn't smell musty, like most apartments. There was a faint smell of wood smoke, clean laundry, and a bit of his cologne. It was an interesting combination, and it smelled like a home. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, just breathing, but she must have dozed off, because she was jolted awake by Tip tapping the side of her knee as he stood up, dog tags jingling against his chest.

"Food should be here soon." He told her. She hummed in response and didn't bother lifting her head. She was a bit worn out from the day and just wanted some sleep. Brandi scowled when Tim shook her leg.

"No sleeping. You gotta stay up." He told her. She opened her eyes and glared at him.

"That's such a stupid thing." Brandi said. "If I fall asleep I'm gonna wake up. I didn't hit my head that hard."

"Doctor seems to think you did." Tim told her as he made his way over to the kitchen again, tossing his empty beer bottle and pulling out plates for them. Brandi sighed and crossed her arms across her chest, wincing as she did so. Her arms were just under the ice. The position was uncomfortable so she didn't stay that way long. The ice was making her cold and she wished she was wearing more than a tank top. Tim had taken her to her house and helped her up the steps. Thankfully, she was able to change into something more comfortable on her own. She pulled on a green cotton tank top and her sweatpants. She had thrown her hair up in a messy bun and slipped on some flip flops. She didn't care how cold it was, she wanted to be able to take her shoes off easily.

The tank top had allowed Tim a chance to notice she had a few tattoos. One peeked out from under her shirt on her back, and he was able to see the tattoo that was inside her upper arm. It was a beautiful rose, with the leaves and thorny stem making a sort of nest around the rose. It was very detailed and well colored. He couldn't tell what the tattoo on her back was though. On her first day, he did notice a small tattoo on her wrist and he'd been meaning to ask her about it. It was some sort of triangle.

He watched her from his spot in the kitchen as he opened another beer, her head leaned back, ice held close. Many of the more severe abrasions were covered in bandaids of all shapes and sizes, but most of her skin was bare. His eyes followed the trail of cuts and bruises and scrapes down her neck and chest. Mixed in with the cuts he could see the occasional freckle. Her shirt was cut low and he took a moment to let his eyes trail over her, watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. He couldn't deny she was a beauty, and witty to boot. He wasn't quite sure why he offered to have her over. Was it guilt? Was it a sense of responsibility? Or was it just something else to do besides drink alone until he crawled into bed?

Tim was pulled out of his thoughts as there was a knock on the door.

"Food's here."


	4. Back in the swing of things!

Brandi and Tim walked into the office bright and early to find their coworkers already there. Raylan and Rachel turned to look at the two and there was a very noticeable difference. Tim was bright eyed and bushy tailed. Freshly showered and in a warm, dark purple sweater with a crisp, clean white button up shirt underneath that complimented his fresh shave and a cup of coffee already pumping through his system. Brandi on the other hand look a little raggedy, but a lot better than the day before. Brandi, fully intending to go straight home, only pulled on a very loose tee shirt and a pair of faded, ripped, and worn jeans with a zip up hoodie over it all. Her hair was in a bun that looked like she had slept in it and the bags under her eyes were made worse from the remnants of her makeup from the day before. She looked exhausted and almost seemed to drag herself in.

"Hey, Brandi!" She greeted in her gentle tone and stood from her desk, moving around. Brandi smiled and Rachel gently pulled her in for a hug, careful not to hurt her ribs. "Glad to see you up and moving."

"You saw me yesterday," Brandi giggled and Rachel released her.

"Yes, and you did not look good, girl." Rachel teased her, squeezing her arm. Tim passed the two and practically bounced towards his desk. Brandi envied his energy.

"You gave us all a bit of a scare when you took a dive off that porch." Raylan explained from his desk.

"I'll try not to jump off any more porches." Brandi promised.

"Be nice if you tried not to get shot, too." Tim piped up as he logged on to his computer, his lazy smile on his face.

"That I can't make any promises on." Brandi quipped back. "Anywho, I'm just here for my stuff. I'm gonna get home."

"Hasn't been twenty four hours, yet." Tim reminded her from his desk.

"Yes, very helpful, Tim." She rolled her eyes and Art popped his head out of his office.

"Mornin' Brandi." He greeted with a small smile. "Mind if I have a quick word?" He asked. Brandi hesitated and shifted her feet.

"Why do I feel like I've done something wrong?" She muttered to Rachel under her breath. Rachel just snorted at her and moved back to her desk. "All right, Art, but I got somewhere I need to be, so here's hoping it really is quick." She said as she dropped her bag on her desk and shuffled into his office. Her heart jumped into her throat when he shut the door behind her. Uh oh.

"You're gonna have to cancel your plans." He told her as he walked over to his desk.

"Excuse me?" She asked, confused. "I thought I had to take the week off?"

"Well, you still got some time before your twenty four hours is up, and frankly, we could use you here today, even if it's just light desk work." Art drawled on. Brandi stood there, hands on her hips. "That's why we have Raylan in today, too. He's supposed to be out as well."

"Why do you keep calling him back in?" Brandi asked, humor in her voice. "You know he's just gonna keep getting into trouble."

"He proved quite useful yesterday." Art pointed out, referring to Raylan's assistance in taking in the fugitive. "Besides, he was specially requested today. Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." He looked at her, his hands folded in front of him. He looked at her and for a moment, studying the girl before him. He remembered her as the roughed up teen who had a huge chip on her shoulder, scared of everyone and just trying to get by. Art remembered the reports on her and what her mother did to her. The sixteen year old from the past was so different from the woman that stood before him, and it pained him to know he hadn't been able to save her, not really. "Have a seat." He motioned.

"I'll stand." She said politely, "I've been sitting too long. What's on your mind, Art?" Brandi asked quietly. Art took in a deep breath, dreading the storm that was heading his way.

"Brandi, what happened in Virginia?" He asked slowly, feeling her out.

"A lot happened, Art." Brandi huffed. "Wanna be a little more specific?"

"Not particularly, but it's always like pulling teeth with you." He admitted. "Fine, I'll cut to the chase: does your ex-boyfriend know you're here?" Brandi stood there with the question he just dumped on her. Her thoughts ran a million miles a minute and Art could swear he saw smoke coming out of her ears. It took her a few moments before she was even able to formulate a response.

"How did you-" She trailed off, staring at Art in shock. She'd been so careful. Brandi blinked, trying to push back the stinging in her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat and she found it hard to speak.

"The nurse told us why youre ribs broke, and she was kind enough to point out the lovely rendition of a boot on your ribs." He laid it all out for her, hoping transparency will get him honest answers.

"Us?" Brandi asked in a whisper as she sat down in one of his office chairs, her stare smiles away. "Who else knows?"

"Just Tim." Art reassured her. Why was it not reassuring? She looked over her shoulder and through the glass. She watched Tim working away at his desk like usual, like nothing was wrong. She turned her head back to Art slowly and she fiddled with the rip on her thigh.

"He doesn't know I'm here." Brandi told him. "At least I don't think so." They two sat in silence for a bit before she whispered out, "I'm sorry."

"What the hell are you apologizin' for?" Art asked.

"After everything you did to get me out of here, I just" She waved her hand and scowled, "threw it all away." Brandi rested her face in her hands for a moment and took a few deep breaths.

"Brandi-" Art spoke but Brandi startled him, snapping her head up, face blank and any trace of whatever she was feeling was gone.

"That's in the past." She said as she stood. She winced a bit as her ribs throbbed painfully. "So, you want me here today?" Brandi asked to confirm and Art had to sit there, trying to recover from the whiplash. "Hope you don't mind I'm not in my Sunday best." She joked with a small smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Last night, Judge Michael Reardon, who we know affectionately as "Mike the Hammer,"" Art spoke as he began drawing on the white board, "was bitten by a poisonous snake about six inches from home plate." He emphasized and drew and "x" where the bite was on the doodled legs. Brandi grimaced in sympathy for the funny judge. She was leaning back in her chair in the conference room, listening to the debriefing with a cup of coffee in her hand. She took a sip and noticed Raylan sitting up with his own cup and flipping through his file in front of him. "The judge is a very color character as we know, he likes to carry a side arm under his robe in case anybody decides to light up the bench." Art droned on. Brandi was startled when she felt someone's hand on the back of her chair and Tim leaned over between her and another agent as he dropped a white bag of letters onto the table.

"Plenty of people would have cause." Tim said with his smirk of amusement in place. "That's hate mail," he explained as he stepped back, folding his arms across his chest. Brandi could hear him behind her and felt her face flushing at how close he had been. Some of his cologne seem to linger and she took a sip of coffee before setting her cup down and reach over for the bag. "He sent it over for review."

"So these are his trophies from the past years?" Raylan asked as he grabbed a stack.

"Let me see some of that." She said quietly and Raylan pushed the bag towards her. She pulled out her own stack and started flipping through, looking at the names and addresses.

"Somethin' like that," Tim answered, "Only that's the last six months." Brandi looked over her shoulder at him.

"This much in six months?" She asked him, stunned.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now look, I want you to cross-reference all the arrest records and the parolees and see if we can't come up with somebody from the backwoods who's used to handling snakes, could've used one for a weapon." Art instructed. Brandi sighed, knowing she'd most likely be the one doing most of the desk work right now. "Nelson, you're gonna take the day detail and Raylan he has specifically requested you for the night." Art announced and Brandi snorted and tried to hide her smile, continuing to flip through the letters, already starting to sort them. Raylan just shot a look her way before looking back at Art.

"My nights are free."

"Not anymore." Art corrected him gently. "All right, let's get to it. Brandi, since you're stuck at your desk, go ahead and get a jump on these letters."

"For the most part, I can tell by name or address if they're our guy." Brandi told him, still sorting the letters. "You want me to still run everything just in case?"

"I'd start with the ones you can sort." He told her. "If we don't find anyone, you can run the names in the extra pile." Brandi nodded and stood to go get her lap top. Everyone started to disperse and Raylan followed her out, wanting to ask her something that had been itching in the back of his head.

"Calhoun," He mused and she hummed in response. "You wouldn't happen to be related to Judith Calhoun, would you?"

"I was wonderin' when you were gonna ask." Brandi gave him a small smile as she grabbed the case holding the department laptop they issued to her. "Why you ask?"

"Growin' up I remember my father dealing with a real mean old lady that owned a ranch a couple hours away in Clays Ferry." Rayland reminisced and Brandi just listened with a smile as she pulled out the laptop and grabbed a notepad and pen. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but if I recall, she would sometimes drag along a scrawny little rag doll of a kid."

"That's me." She smiled at him. "I hated when she would drag me all the way down to Harlan. I feel like I spent more time running around Harlan than Clay's Ferry." Brandi explained. She looked over at Raylan, "No offense."

"None taken." He said with a knowing smile.

"The two hours down she'd be bitchin' about how much she missed it all, how everyone in Clay's Ferry was too nosey and snobby for her taste. And then I'd have to go hang around your place, and for the two hours back she'd be bitchin' about how much she hated Harlan and how she'd never go back." Brandi reminisced. Raylan just gave her a wide, knowing smile. "Liked your mom, though, Ms. Helen? She'd always sneak me a snack or somethin' sweet."

"Aunt." Raylan corrected politely. "Helen is my mother's sister. Married Arlo after she died."

"Oh, sorry." Brandi apologized as some memories suddenly made a lot more sense.

"Eh, it was a long time ago." Raylan said quietly and the two stood there, a little awkwardly. "How's the old ranch?" He broke the silence, trying to make a little small talk. "Take it she didn't take too good care of it."

"I think she started taking inspiration from your daddy." Brandi joked and Raylan cracked another knowing smile. The house was in about as good of shape as it was back then. "I get to spend the next few weekends fixin' up the place. It's a miracle I didn't find mold behind that ugly wallpaper in the kitchen."

"Well, with those ribs, I think your renovating project is gonna have to be put on hold." Raylan told her with a sympathetic smile and nod before he walked away, leaving her to her work. Brandi looked around her desk for her phone and grabbed it.

"Hey, Maura." Brandi said sweetly into the phone. "Hey, are you busy this afternoon? I need a favor."

Hours ticked by and Brandi had sorted the mail the best she could. Then she took the pile of mail set aside for possible candidates and sorted it into likely versus less likely. Once she was finally through with that, she began running the names and making a list. All the letters she deemed "no" got tossed back into the bag and as time slipped by, her eyes began to sting and the bag slowly got fuller. After a while Brandi rested her face in her hands. The Tylenol was wearing off and she wasn't sure she packed any more. Her head throbbed and her ribs ached and she wanted nothing more than to soak in a tub with a bottle of wine and then sleep for a week.

Brandi lifted her head when she heard someone sit something down on the table and clear their throat. She looked up to see Tim standing next to her with his hand still on the cup of coffee.

"Looked like you could use it." He told her and took a sip of his own coffee. Even though it was getting later into the afternoon, she had a feeling she'd be there for even longer.

"Thanks." She said and took a sip and Tim pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. "What have you been up to?"

"Well, aside from helping Art coordinate this protective detail, I've been given access to the judge's email. He got some fan mail there too. Figured it would go quicker if I took that off your hands." Tim explained.

"He's popular." Brandi commented off handedly. Tim let out a long sigh.

"Yeah." Tim drawled and leaned back in his chair. "That's not all though. I've been going through some of his older cases, all the way back from his first day."

"What'd you find?" She asked, curious about the judge. Tim looked at her for a minute, weighing his options. He didn't just find some interesting cases relevant to what they were looking for. He had half a mind to tell her he found the file on her mother's trial, but what good would that really do? Was it really necessary? Brandi was there for it all, she knew better than anyone that happened. After a brief moment of hesitation, Tim decided to just stick to what was relevant.

"His first court case?" Tim started and Brandi listened intently, eager to hear the new details being added to the case. "He let the guy off easy and about a year later, the guy kills a kid and a cop."

"Damn." Brandi breathed. "Hell of a first case." Tim only hummed. The two sat in silence. This wasn't an easy job. They dealt with lives being upended on the daily, and even had to do some upending themselves. None of them liked it, but it was what they had to do. Brandi broke the tension by shooting him a sideways glance as she lifted the cup up to drink it. "For a moment I thought you were gonna ask me about my moma's court case."

Tim let out a brief nervous laugh and she took a sip. She liked seeing that nervous, almost embarrassed smile.

"Yeah, well." He drawled quietly, swinging his chair slightly. "I was thinkin' about it."

The phone on the conference room table rang, startling the two and Brandi pushed away a few letters and answered it. Tim went back to looking through some of the older files when he heard her swear for the second time. "Shit." She swore and picked up a pen and wrote something down. "Alright, I'll send Art your way." She said and hung up. "Art!" She called from her desk, really not wanting to get up.

"What?" He called back from his office and Brandi rolled her eyes. Tim sat with his hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of their antics.

"Art, Raylan called!" She hollered to the man sitting at his desk in the glass office. While the shouting hurt, it was a hell of a lot easier than getting up. They heard him grunt and groan and stand up. The keys on his belt jingled as he walked and popped his head out the door. "There was another accident with the judge." Brandi filled him in, no longer shouting. "He said paramedics are on the way already. Here's the address he gave." She explained and handed him over a sticky note.

"Alright, thanks Brandi." Art said and looked between the two of them. "You two got the top ten list yet?"

"Almost done with the letters." Brandi reported and stifled a yawn. Tim hand over a piece of paper.

"Here's a list I got from his emails." He explained and she took it, looking it over. "Figure once you get yours narrowed down we can fit these in somewhere."

"How long will it take?" Art asked as Brandi scanned it. She recognized only a small handful of last names but she knew a lot of the towns.

"I can probably have it done by the time you get back." She said, looking back up at him. Art nodded, happy she had been able to do so much in so little time.

"All right, you can give us a run down when we get back." Art suggested. "Keep coming up with lists until we find who we need." He instructed as he walked back into his office to grab his gear.

"Sounds like a plan." Brandi sighed under her breath and pulled up the list of people she had. Now it was time to narrow it down. "Tim, can you make sure their addresses are up to date while I finish this up?" She asked and handed him a piece of paper holding her top contenders.

"Sure thing." He said with a sigh through the nose, already tired of looking at the same names over and over. Some days office work was too tedious for his liking.

The two sat for a while, narrowing it down, light talk floated between them about the case and eccentricities of the judge, swapping rumors. Brandi was relieved he didn't bring up anything…sensitive. She wondered if he cared or what he thought about it. Did he think less of her now? How much did the nurse tell them? Did he even care? She tried to push these thoughts down and focus on the work, but between staring at the light on the screen, trying to narrow down the "who dun it" list, and the throbbing pain in her head and ribs, Brandi found it more and more difficult to focus. She was exhausted. It was well past that time limit so she could go home for the day, but she had a job to do. She wasn't quite ready to go home yet. "Your head hurt?" Tim asked, seeing her with her face in her hands again.

"Everything hurts." She admitted. "Tylenol wore off a few hours ago." Brandi explained and lifted her head. Tim looked out to the office and saw Art walking towards them.

"Well, here's your chance to wrap it all up." Tim offered her. Brandi smiled as her boss came into the room.

"How's it goin' you two?" He asked, starring at the mess of letters all over the desk. "You're still just as unorganized as ever." He said to Brandi.

"It's an organized mess," She defended and started looking for her lists, "I know where everything is."

"Then where is your list?" Art asked, smirk on his face as she kept searching.

"Somewhere on the table." Brandi said and Tim let out a puff of humor through his nose. He reached over and pulled the paper out from under her laptop and Brandi shot him a look of thanks. He nodded quickly at her before handing the paper to Art who had taken an apple out of his pocket. He looked over the paper and rubbed the apple against his shirt while Tim talked, letting Brandi sit back and just breathe.

"Here's the list with the updated addresses." Tim explained, "Or at least the most current we could find. This guy at the top of the list? His last known address was Wichita." Art hmmed at it and nodded before handing the paper back to Tim.

"Good work." He said as Raylan waltzed in. He glanced at Raylan over his shoulder. "And where have you been?"

"Uh, personal business." Raylan dismissed. Art bit his apple while staring down Raylan, not buying it and Brandi tried to fight back a smile. Art giving Raylan shit was her favorite part of her day. Raylan stared back for a moment. "That's why they call it 'personal'."

"Mm-hm." Art nodded and lumbered out of the room, chewing on his apple. She saw Raylan crack a smile as he turned to them.

"You guys got that top ten list for the judge for me?" He asked and Tim handed the same paper to Raylan.

"I do, uh and it wasn't easy narrowing it down to 10." Tim said with his smirk.

"They don't call him "Mike the Hammer" for nothing." Brandi added and Raylan looked between the two of them, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Yeah, every time that gavel drops, he just hits them with the maximum sentence," Tim explained, leaning back in his chair. "Plus asset forfeiture-"

"Court costs." Brandi tossed in quietly.

"Yeah, court costs, really anything he can toss at them." Tim finished, nodding at Brandi for her input.

"Well, as advertised, he's colorful." Raylan said as he folded the paper and put it inside his blazer. "Loves his job."

"There's more to it than that." Brandi piped up, swiveling her chair a little bit. Raylan looked at her, interested in hearing what she had to say. She looked at Tim expectantly. "Tell him what you found, about his first case." She encouraged and Raylan looked to Tim.

"I got out the old court records." He started. "going all the way back to his first days on the bench and that's when I find Kit Mckendrie." He explained and picked up a file, handing it to Raylan. He opened it and scanned what he could see.

"Kit McKendrie trying to kill the judge?" Raylan asked and Tim rubbed his temple. It was not a pleasant story.

"No, Mr. McKendrie got off with time served." Tim sighed a bit. "And therein lies a tale."

"Well, I guess I'll just have to ask him about it." Raylan stated and closed the file, setting it back on the desk. "Thanks, guys."

"Don't mention it." Brandi said and he gave them both a nod as he walked out. She sighed and let her head fall back and Tim looked over at her. "Thanks for your help with this." She paused. "And for last night."

"Don't mention it." He said and started gathering up the paperwork and stuffing letters inside the bag. "Now, I don't know about you, but I'm getting' my shit and heading home for some much deserved sleep." Brandi giggled a bit and nodded her head in agreement.

"That I think I would love to do." She agreed and started gathering up the work. "I had Maura meet the furniture guys today so I get to go home to a newly furnished home."

"Oh really?" Tim asked her, giving a smile.

"Partially. Just the living room stuff." Brandi admitted. "But, it's a start."

"Well, you can break in the new couch tonight." He pointed out as he stacked some of the files together.

"If I wasn't so tired, I'd ask you to come over and break it in with me." Brandi blurted out without thinking and she felt heat crawling up her neck as she froze at the implications. Tim snickered at her embarrassment and she fumbled over herself to try to clear up any misunderstanding. "I mean…just as coworkers. Ya know? Like have a beer and-and oh, you wouldn't be the only one I'd invite."

"I know what you mean." Tim reassured her slyly in a tone that told her otherwise. Brandi let out a huff in defeat and shoved more of the letters into the bag. Brandi grabbed any loose papers and stuffed them in an empty folder. She snapped her lap top shut and shuffled to her desk while Tim grabbed his own work. Brandi was kicking herself internally, she literally gave him the shit for the same thing yesterday! Stupid, stupid, stupid. Head out of the gutter!

"Heading home for the night?" Art asked her, leaning against his doorframe.

"Yes, sir." Brandi said and tossed him a smile as she lifted her bag over her shoulder and shoved her phone in her pocket, shaking her keys in her hand. "I'll be back in bright and early tomorrow." She assured him.

"Look, you've got a couple broken ribs. Take it easy Brandi." Art told her. "If you need a day or a week off, take it." Brandi just smiled at him.

"I'll be back tomorrow." She told him and walked out of the office. Brandi drove herself home and sun was starting to set, casting long shadows. She sat in her car for a minute and just looked at the front porch. The light was on, casting a yellow glow, blending in with the warm sunset. She killed the engine and smiled, seeing the yellow paper taped onto the front porch. She grabbed her bag and gingerly struggled out of the truck, shutting the door behind her. Crickets chirped and the bards creaked under her feet as she climbed up to the door. She noted the two porch chairs and the small table. They weren't what she ordered and she couldn't help but smile. Brandi grabbed the paper and pulled it off the screen door's frame.

Welcome home! Hope you don't mind the new porch furniture, too! –Maura

Brandi unlocked the door and stepped in, flipping on the lights. She dropped her bag near the door and stepped into the room to the right, the living room. She slowly lowered herself onto the couch and sunk into it with a happy sigh. It was comfy and firm and didn't smell like mildew. She pulled out her phone and sent Maura a text.

Everything is perfect. Thank you!

Brandi closed her eyes and started to doze off but her phone buzzed with a new message. When she checked it, she slowly pulled herself up off the new couch.

You owe me. Check the fridge.

Brandi shuffled into her happy yellow kitchen and opened her fridge. She was greeted with a large tuperware container of food and a six pack of her favorite beer. Although Brandi noted Maura seemed to have helped herself to a bottle. A large grin stretched across her face and she pulled out the dinner and a beer. She opened it and was greeted by a large serving of spaghetti and popped it into the microwave. While it cooked she cracked open the bottle and took a swig.

Before long Brandi found herself sitting on the couch, stomach full of pasta and beer, something boring on the tv fading into the background, and nodding off and sinking into her new couch. The pain of her ribs and head were fading into a distant pulse.


End file.
